Hetalia: Don't Add Me!
by Bai-Marionette
Summary: Gauken Slash!AU: Welcome to the wonderful world of Alfred F. Jones. He recently moved with his family to this new town that he totally can't remember, but that's not important. What's important is showing that trash-talking Russian commie who's the real King of Popularity. First things first…find him on FaceBook. RusAme.
1. Bring It On, Commie!

**Don't Add Me!**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Gauken Slash!AU: Welcome to the wonderful world of Alfred F. Jones. He recently moved with his family to this new town that he totally can't remember, but that's not important. What's important is showing that trash-talking Russian commie who's the real King of Popularity. First things first…find him on FaceBook. RusAme.

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

**.:Status Update:.**

**Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones says**: Fucking commie. I am going to kick his ass one day. Just you wait, I'm going to do it! DX

_Nov. 6__th__, 20XX. 2:28 PM. (via Mobile.)_

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As semi-loud voices drifted down the hall, Alfred slammed his locker door shut. Although, he could have done it a bit more gently, as he forced himself to retain his smile and not glare death glares across the hall. He had freaked out a teacher, just last week, for that. He'd rather not have a repeat of the incident.

It had been very awkward, when he had totally forgotten and gone to her class only for her to freak out and think he was going to attack her or something. It was totally not cool when she called his mom at work. And it was totally not cool when his mom cussed him out and told him, in no certain words, to stop being a dumbass and getting into trouble at his school so soon.

Yeah…He's rather stay on his mom's good side for a little bit longer.

_Please don't talk to me_, Alfred thought as an inner mantra, as he tried to walk to his next class before the late bell rang. _Please don't talk to me_. He couldn't afford detention. That was another thing that would kill his good standing with his mom.

He really wanted to stay off punishment for longer than a week, thank you very much. Plus, the newest addition of his favorite game series was coming out soon, and he kind of-sort of- needed his mom and dad to float him money to get it…

So yeah, being on his mom's good side was his goal for the week. He could fuck up later, but for right now, he had to be an utter angel. And being an utter angel, he thought with a deep breath to relieve some anger, was ignoring the idiotic commie laughing with his stupid commie-loving friends a few kids behind him.

He was almost to his destination. Mr. Carriedo's classroom doorknob oh-so close and right within his reach, when—

"Oh, privet, American trash~"

He inwardly swore inside his mind. He was never that lucky, was he? He could never get a damn break! He only wanted to stay out of the principal's office, for one whole week. Is that too much to ask?

_God, please strike down this commie bastard,_ Alfred thought, _so I can get my game this weekend. _The American teen heard footsteps closing in on him, voices in the tone of farewells and see-ya laters. But he didn't care about that, he only cared about getting through that door, so he could come in on time for once.

Maybe Mr. Carriedo wouldn't have that test today. Maybe, he could take a few actual notes, maybe copy off of Arthur's notes at lunch, so he could have a decent grade in this class. Well, sure he had a C, but he brought home a better grade later, maybe he could win his mom over more.

He had his hand on the doorknob. He was opening the door, he was almost there, and he was right about to put his foot over the threshold—

And the commie shut it back, smiling like an angel who had done no wrong

More like grinning like the Devil, Alfred thought sourly. He knew better than to try to open the door anyways. Explaining a broken hand to his mom had been harder than he thought. Not only did she not buy it, but she drove him all the way to Ivan's house to apologize. Apologize, I know right! Heroes do not apologize! Especially if they were the ones who got hurt! The commie should have been the one to apologize!

"Well, what?" Alfred snapped, "You stopped me from going into my next class, what the fuck do you want from me?" Ivan, being the damn commie bastard, he was, just feigned hurt.

"And here I thought," he began, his voice seeming to drip with sarcasm. "That we were growing to be friends. You haven't said a mean thing to me, all day, da?" Alfred's eye twitched, the blue hue growing a bit darker, as he sighed angrily. He shifted the text and binder in his hands, not look at Ivan, but at the floor where he could see his shoes. He had to remind himself to make a note that he needed to get them washed this week. They looked like they had seen better days.

"Look," Alfred began, trying to civil like the awesome guy he always is, "I don't want to fight with you today. Not today, or tomorrow, or the day after that. I want to stay out of trouble this week, so get your damn commie hands off the doorknob so I can get into class." More like he _needed_ to stay out of trouble this week. But that was details, and those kinds of things were stupid when it came to bigger things.

Bigger things being the late bell was going to ring really soon, he was not in class, and he could not afford detention. He could not afford, damn it! Why wasn't the commie letting go of the doorknob? Was he holding it hostage? Oh fuck no; Alfred was not going to let that slide by!

When the commie bastard still made no moves to let go of the doorknob, and Alfred thought he only had a few more minutes until the bell rang, he said, "It looks like you're going to let go of the doorknob, so I'll do it my damn self."

Alfred slapped Ivan's hand away, and yanked the door wide open—

Just in time, to catch the shrill ring of the bell in his ears. His jaw flopped, as he sputtered incomprehensible things. This was so unfair! It was all the damn commie's fault, bell, not his! The commie held him hostage!

Mr. Carriedo turned around, from explaining something to the angry Italian kid, Romano, to smile a bit at the picture at his doorway. "How nice of you to join us, Alfred. I see you brought Ivan, as well, what a surprise~"

Alfred's eye twitched and he heard Ivan giggle behind him. The tall Russian easily walked around him, a lie spilling from his dirty commie mouth too easily, as Alfred wrecked his brain for an excuse. "Ah yes, well, Fredka and I had to discuss a few things, privately, if you will. I'm terribly sorry, we took so long to finish."

Alfred glared at Ivan's back, as he slid into his seat beside one of his friends. "Shut up, commie!" Ivan raised a brow, from halfway across the room, and said smoothly, "Well, everyone was going to find out anyways. We weren't going to be to keep quiet for long." The commie pointed to Alfred, smirking, as he slid into his seat with a practiced commie grace. "You're too loud for that."

Alfred's face shamed a tomato, as he heard the class have a mixed variation of reactions. Some of them giggled, some gasped, and others looked downright shocked.

Alfred tried to make up some kind of comeback, but Mr. Carriedo beat him to it. The Spanish teacher coughed a bit, to gain the class' attention, and said, "Well…it's nice to see yours and Alfred's…um, relationship is going smoothly. But try to keep those kinds of actions outside of school, would you?" His smile twitched, "Or at least, not outside my classroom…"

Ivan laughed, the commie bastard, felt the need to fucking laugh. Alfred felt like his face couldn't get any redder. What? What! What had he just said? Did he-no, he couldn't be! He just didn't-! Alfred tried to replay the words in his head, to try to make it sound different. But it all came back the same.

His Spanish teacher, one of his favorite teachers out of the whole school, thought he was doing…doing that –**THAT** – with Ivan? Ivan Bragniski! The commie! The HELL?

_Fuck_, Alfred thought, his face flaming. _Can life get any worse?_ He groaned at his desk, right next to his smarty-pants British friend, Arthur, and the other's perverted French boyfriend. Alfred thought he had seen his brother earlier today, but maybe the other was skipping class again.

Funny…they had the same schedule, but it always seemed like Mathew was skipping class everyday. If he was skipping class all the time, how the Hell was he making a higher grade than him!

Speaking of life…

"Oh, _**bueno**_, _**clase**_," Mr. Carriedo began, and his green eyes looked up from marking his attendance log. Alfred saw him mouth down the names. He felt a little bit happy that the commie had been marked late, but then his name came, and then Mr. Carriedo mouthed the word "late".

Alfred groaned inwardly. He was only two more late classes to an afterschool detention. He so did not need this, damn it!

"Alright then," the Spanish teacher chirped, and went for a small stack on his desk. "Here is the test that we've been going over for the past two weeks. Let's see what we need to work on!" Alfred paled, and then his head came into contact with his folded arms on his desk.

Fuck, he thought. He thought he had a little more time… He blamed the commie. For every answer, he didn't know on the multiple choices, or couldn't quite spell on the free response; he cursed and blamed the reason. It was his entire fault, anyways, right?

Global warming, obesity, teen pregnancy, this test –Hell, maybe the commie had a hand in the development of AIDS, for all he knew! – He blamed Ivan.

When he got his test back, at the end of the day, and he saw that pristine A on the top of the paper, he almost couldn't believe his luck. But then Mr. Carriedo frowned, and said, "Wait a _**momento**_, this is for Mathew Williams!" Alfred felt his face fall, as his brother suddenly appeared beside him and took his pretty paper, smiling and saying a soft word of thanks.

Alfred suddenly feared for his paper…And he had a right to, as he felt his paper come into his hands face-down. He dared to peek from under it, and groaned. He crumbled it, and made a move to toss it to the trash can, but then Mr. Carriedo said, "I'd really like it if you all had your _**padres**_ to look over and sign this test."

Alfred paled, and wanted to bash his head into the wall. Oh Hell no, he couldn't show his mom this! He had totally flunked this test! Well, he had a high C, but still! He totally failed in comparison to his skipping brother! He was never going to get that game, at this rate!

"All who bring it back," Mr. Carriedo continued, though Alfred was only half listening. "Get _**diez**_ points added to their final grade for this quarter." Interest piqued in Alfred. He could always use ten more points to his final grade. How soon did progress reports come out, anyways?

He really needed to pay more attention…

Steeling himself for one of his mom's disapproving tones and words, when he returned home, Alfred took use of his phone in the last five minutes to make an important FaceBook update. He was probably going to get his phone taken away for this, anyways. Whatever.

* * *

**1 New Notification: **_Ivan commented on Alfred's status._

**Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski says**: I'd like to see you try, comrade. :P

_Nov. 6th, 20XX. 2:32 PM. (via Mobile.)_

* * *

This…practically wrote itself when I was TRYING to write my SuFin story "Blue Embers"…

._. My brother thought it was funny; I thought it was kind of weird. Tell me what you think. Do you want this to continue?

**READ AND REVIEW!**


	2. Chance of a Lifetime

**Don't Add Me!**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Gauken Slash!AU: Welcome to the wonderful world of Alfred F. Jones. He recently moved with his family to this new town that he totally can't remember, but that's not important. What's important is showing that trash-talking Russian commie who's the real King of Popularity. First things first…find him on FaceBook. RusAme.

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Author Alert:

Story alert/ Favorites: ** MaliceArchangela, seqka711, fullmetalyaoi196, Ashcola17, Gilly B, Fireshadow242**

Reviewer(s)!: ** Guest(2), KittyWithCoffee, Usagi323, Animaegan, Mikkur, Ashcola17, Prussian Sinister, nadzuke eno mono**

Guest: I'm glad I piqued your interest. I hope I can continue soon, as well.

KittyWithCoffee: I'm so glad you love it! I'm a sucker for pleases, so I might just squeeze in an update for this story~

Usagi323: I'm glad you enjoyed it so much!

seqka711: LOL, you know they're friends on FB, they reply quick and easy. XD It gets better, hun, trust me.

Animaegan: I'm so glad you think so, here's the newest chapter! :D

Mikkur: I'd love it if you keep reviewing…~ (Hint hint)

Guest2: I'm so glad you enjoy this story, as well my others. I'm getting kind of weird about starting new projects, whilst I have others, aren't I? ^^'

Ashcola17: LOL, that is a lot…Russia's huge. (LOL, look at the pun.) Thanks, and I hope you enjoy this update, as well.

nadzuke eno mono: Danke, enough said. XD

Prussian Sinister: To be honest, I have no fucking idea. Coffee, maybe? I was drinking that earlier…*shrug* And yes, ja! Spain would be a great teacher! I'd always pay attention to his ass-err- I mean, his class! O/O (Yeah, that is one down side. I don't like R-18 doujin very much, I prefer T for visual pictures for when people look over my shoulder…Which happens a lot.

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Oh yeah, I forgot to mention in the first chapter. This is **romance**, but there's a lot of humor and drama in this. That's the reason for the categories. This is RusAme romance, and it's slash: meaning that love slowly grows between the two main characters. :3

* * *

**.:Status Update:.**

**Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones says**: Oh shit, I got invited to Ivan's party. WHAT THE HELL DO I DO? O.o

_Nov. 8t__h__, 20XX. 12:51 PM. (via Mobile.) _**[^Liked by:**]

**Mathew Notice-Me Williams says**: REALLY? ARE YOU SERIOUS? 0_0 I thought you said he hated you! :o (And get off FB in school! DX)

_ Nov. 8t__h__, 20XX. 12:51 PM. (via Mobile.)_

** Gilbert ****King_of_Awesome_Prussia** Beilschmidt says: I'll give you my awesome advice. Go. I got invited too. I may hate the guy, for last year when he dumped me, but I gotta admit: He throws an awesome party. Go.

_ Nov. 8t__h__, 20XX. 12:52 PM. (via Mobile.)_

** Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says**: I'm serious. GO MOTHERFUCKER. DX

_ Nov. 8t__h__, 20XX. 12:52 PM. (via Mobile.) _**[Liked by:**_ Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy_**]**

**Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy says:** Go, mon ami! Perhaps you'll find l'amour within the party! ;)

_Nov. 8__h__, 20XX. 12:54 PM. (via Mobile.)_

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Head down and buried in his folded arms, Alfred tried to think of a new way that he was going to be able to up his grade in his Spanish. Cheating was out of the question. Antonio, his teacher, would catch the moment his eyes strayed off his paper. Besides, heroes did not cheat! Never!

So…he was stuck here, outside in the courtyard, eating a slice of pizza he had bought from lunch, trying to decipher the Spanish mumbo-jumbo on the pages of his textbook.

"Something something _**esta**_…uh," Alfred read, as his brow furrowed. He hid his confused voiced musing with another bite of pizza. "_**Hoy es**_…something about the moon?" It looked like it was talking about the moon. There was a calendar, and the word was lune-something.

_Why the Hell does Spanish have to be such a hard language_, Alfred thought. He really wished English was the standard language of the world. This would be much easier on everyone. Everyone could understand each other. English was so easy!

_Well American was, anyways,_ Alfred thought, as he shoved the crust in his mouth, and finished off the pizza slice. He sighed, as tried to focus on the end of section questions. He hated those things. He couldn't read the damn things, so how could he answer them?

He groaned, as he tried to focus. Think brain, think, it can't be as hard as I'm making this out to be. I'm sure others are worse off than me. He tried to think someone who might be worse off, but all he could of was the Polish kid. But he was actually smart, he just wrote everything in pen – pencils were lame to him – and so he always got points docked off of his work.

Arthur was an A+ student, and always did everything. Alfred thought he remembering seeing his brother's grades once, and found them as all high As. Even though, he was forever skipping class. Weird…

"Why, hello, comrade~"

_Fuck my life_. Alfred didn't even dare look up. He brushed some invisible crumbs off of his red jersey, and leaned back onto the tree. He ignored the voice trying to start a conversation with him. Who the Hell could stand talking to a commie, anyways. Fucking weirdo, Alfred thought, as he skimmed a page and then turned it.

"So," Ivan said, with a light tone of voice. As if he didn't make Alfred's life less awesome, by sucking the joy out of the air and replacing it with his nasty commie germs. "I was just wondering if you were available this weekend, and – "

"Can't," Alfred said, flatly. "And I have no interest in whatever shitty idea you have." _Even if it requires my total heroic help_, he added in his mind. Damn commie. Who did he think he was, coming up to the Hero – the Hero, Alfred F. Jones, when he was STUDYING, no less – to ask him to join him in some commie plot to take over the world.

Fuck his communist couch.

"Oh?" Ivan cooed, his voice dripping with venomous innocence and sweetness. He bent on one knee, and Alfred spared him a look to scoff at him. "Won't you please consider? I thought Americans liked parties."

Alfred muttered something under his breath, as his interest was piqued. He was American. And he did like to party. Everyone he danced with said he was good…Wait-what? What, no! It was a trick! This was a trick for Alfred to put his guard down! Well, he wouldn't fall for it! He –

Wait. Ivan was inviting him to a party. Holy shit. Fuck the Spanish question – He was being invited to his party. Everyone knew about Ivan's parties. They were the talk of the school for a month, at least. And he was being invited to one. B-but it wasn't like he hadn't even been invited or anything, or that he was excited about Ivan personally giving him an invitation. Nope!

Ivan smiled, violet eyes shining, as he handed Alfred the envelope. "I hope you come, Alfred. I've heard you're a great dancer." With a final smile, the Russian commie stood up and ran off to re-join his group of friends.

But Alfred was too dumbstruck by the envelope in his hands to really pay them any attention. Holy shit. He just got invited to Ivan's party. Sputtering, he patted his thighs for his phone. Luckily, his mom hadn't taken it away. But she had said his game was going to have to be postponed. Ah well.

Time for a FaceBook update. The world had to know about this. Alfred F. Jones got invited to one of the most talked about parties at his school. And Ivan had personally given it to him. Not some lackey or other kid. The envelope even had his name, damn, was Ivan really want to go?

Or was this all some commie plot to fuck over the Hero? Whatever. For right now, Alfred didn't care so much, as he was going to be attending one of the most amazing parties EVER.

* * *

**Party Invite: **_Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones is _**ATTENDING**_ Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski's party on Nov. 10__th__,20XX._

**^Liked By: **_Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski, __Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt, Im All-Belongs-To-Korea Yong Soo, Arthur British-Gentleman Kirkland, Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy, Kiku Ninja-sensei Honda, Feliciano Pasta Vargas, Mathew Notice-Me Williams, and 20 others liked this._

**Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski says**: Nice to hear, comrade. I hope to see you then, da? ^J^

_Nov. 8__h__, 20XX. 7:51 PM.(via Mobile.)_

** Gilbert ****King_of_Awesome_Prussia** Beilschmidt says: I can't wait to see how this plays out. XDD

_ Nov. 8__h__, 20XX. 7:26 PM._** [Liked By: **_Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski and Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones._**]**

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Yes. I updated. This has a plot. As I said in the opening, this story is also a romance, as I said, but I thought it fit 'Humor' and 'Drama', more so. (That's why I wrote slash in the summary.) I mean, the romance doesn't come until later, in the beginning it's mostly drama and funnies. LOL.

Show this to your friends, and get them on it. I'm an attention-whore, feed me what I crave. :DD

**READ AND REVIEW!**

**P.S.: **Am I only one laughing at their middle names? Especially France! XD 'Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt'! LOL.


	3. To Drink and Dance With My Worst Enemy

**Don't Add Me!**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Gauken Slash!AU: Welcome to the wonderful world of Alfred F. Jones. He recently moved with his family to this new town that he totally can't remember, but that's not important. What's important is showing that trash-talking Russian commie who's the real King of Popularity. First things first…find him on FaceBook. RusAme.

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

READ A/N FOR MY EXCUSE ON LATENESS. IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! I SWEAR. D:

**.:Status Update:.**

**Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones says**: Oh yeah, Ma let me go! It's gonna be a wild night for this guy! X3

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 3:51 PM. (via Mobile.) _**[^Liked by: **Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt]

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says**: Oh, this is going to be AWESOME! Just you wait, watch your song come on! X)

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 3:51 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Arthur English-Gentleman Kirkland says**: Don't be stupid, you git, you just want blackmail on someone else.

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 3:52 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Mathew Notice-Me Williams says**: I can tell this is going to be a weird night….o.e

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 3:53 PM. (via Mobile.) _**[Liked by:**_ Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy_**]**

**Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy says:** If by "weird", you mean "full of l'amour", then oui, indeed, Mathew. I totally agree with you. :3

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 3:54 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones says:** No.

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 3:54 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Mathew Notice-Me Williams says:** Non, that's French for no, right? Non.

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 3:54 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Arthur English-Gentleman Kirkland says:** Get off FaceBook, frog. =_=

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 3:55 PM. (via Mobile.)_

Fresh out of the shower, wearing a clean pair of boxers and a nice pair of jeans he had been saving for a while, Alfred was humming along with the song on the radio, not even seeming to care that it was a song about a girl dancing. If anything, the slight sway and switch of his hips made it seem like he wanted to dance to it. It was a good thing he had closed his bedroom door.

He had closed it, right?

A moment later, Mathew strode in, frowning as he texted back to someone who had the wrong number. Honestly, his voice was not that feminine…At least, to him, it was just soft for a guy. Once puberty finished with him, it would be stop doing that…Hopefully.

"Hey Al," he began, as he looked up from his phone, "It's going on seven, if you're still going, we need to get a move on—_What _in the name of_ MAPLE _are _you doing?_"

Alfred had somehow switched from shifting through his closet to dancing along with the song. "Wobble, make it wobble, make it wobble- Mattie!" He rounded on his red-faced brother, suddenly furious and extremely embarrassed. His twin brother had not just seen him try to dance like that. He had not. This was...that had never happened. "Dude! Have you not ever heard of effin' _knocking_?"

Mattie put up his hands in mock surrender, his face losing some of its blush, as he turned away to walk back out of the room. His words were quick, and pretty much all running over each other. "I was just coming in to tell you that we can leave, when you're ready is all."

With that, the Canadian was gone, and the resounding slam of his door was the only indicator that he had been anywhere but. Alfred raised a brow, but then shrugged his still shirtless shoulders. Going back to his dancing for a minute to finish the song, he found the shirt he was looking for and put it on.

He checked in his mirror, flexing a bit to make more mucho. He grinned, and his reflection smiled back. He looked good.

With that, he tucked his phone in his pocket and putting in a little money he had saved (just in case), Alfred walked out of his room. He called out, on his way down the stairs, "Dude! Mattie! Come on, we need to, like, go already! You are not making me late with your girly ass!"

"You watch your fucking mouth!" Alfred's mother shouted, her voice carrying well and over Mattie's reply of "I'm not girly, you attention-whore!"

Alfred laughed as he came down the stairs, his brother following close behind with a barely audible huff. Their mother stood before the door, their dad casually watching TV. However, it was their father who said, his blue eyes still on the sports game, "Inspection time: no sagging, no gang signs, no swears, and absolutely NO USA-Al."

Alfred rolled his eyes, but stood forward. He stuck out his arms, a corner of his mouth rising. "I'm clean, Pops." Truth be told, he was clean…in their sense that he met the restrictions. His pants were not dragging on his waist – they were practically a second skin, made of blue denim. His brown fake-leather jacket was clean of "country affiliations" and was short and so tight on his shoulders that he hadn't bothered to even zip it up, his white shirt had black designs of alien spaceships on them, and his shoes were plain black Converses.

His mother eyed the aliens on his shirt, growling, but giving in when she found nothing else. She couldn't hold aliens against her son. He was her weird little boy. She would overcome this. Next, she looked to her other son. The quiet one…who was dressed like he was a rebel, her eyes widened, as did everyone else's (but their dad) who turned to look at him.

Mathew raised a brow, crossing his arms over his white shirt, it was plain, as was the black half-vest but the red and white tie was not. It had a devil-horned smiley. Mathew's pants were tighter than Alfred's, and were plaid between red and black. His boots were a bit high, and solid black with a silver chain on the zipper to the hem. He had on a black choker with a red maple leaf. Added on were the red, white and black wristbands, which were plain.

"What?" He asked, and Alfred opened his mouth to speak, to which his mother gave him a look that said 'Speak-and-you-go-damned-nowhere". Alfred closed his mouth, not daring to risk his luck. He really wanted to go to this party.

"Mathew Williams," their mother began, "What the Hell do you think that you are—" Her words were cut off, as the TV was suddenly ignored. Alfred and Mathew's father stood, and then came and pulled his wife from the door. He opened it for his sons, smiling, and said, "Have fun. Be back, before I have to call the cops."

Right as each boy was on the other side of the door, it was slammed shut and the TV's volume was raised. Their mother was screaming about losing her babies, whilst Mathew and Alfred shrugged and took off for the neighboring house a few ways down where their ride awaited.

Arthur opened the door, as Alfred said, "Oh my God, I thought you would never hurry up! We were waiting for like five minutes!" Arthur almost slammed the door back shut, and then thought wiser and said, "Piss off, you can wait five more min—"

The words were cut short, when his larger and Scottish brother shoved him through the door. "Get the fucking Hell out, Arthur. I've had to use the bathroom for an hour, while you were playing dress-up with your fairy friends."

Arthur barely had time to yell, "It was my bloody bathroom, Angus, and the fairies said my liner was off-!" Before his brother shut the door, and then re-opened it to Arthur the car keys. He grinned, "Be back before I have to go to work. Don't let your boyfriend knock you up."

"Piss off!" Arthur shouted, his face red under the night, while Alfred held his laughs and Mathew tried to politely "cough" into his hand. Angus smiled, and then closed the door, leaving Arthur to huff and then gesture to the parked car in the driveway. "Come on, before I decide to leave the both of you."

He was still muttering about idiots under his breath, as he opened the driver's seat and started the car. Alfred immediately called for shotgun, so he could have access to the radio. Finding a song he liked, he started grooving in his seat, to which Mathew rolled his eyes at and Arthur said, "You'll be the one getting knocked up, dancing like you are."

Mathew chimed in, "And you can totally talk, considering last weekend, how you were all up on Fran—" Arthur snapped at the Canadian to shut up, and Alfred asked, "What happened last weekend?"

"Arthur was drunk off his—"

"Nothing!"

After a little threatening of being thrown out of the car, Mathew pretended to be civil and quiet, as Alfred shrugged and went back to finding another song on the radio. The other one had gotten boring to him, while he had been distracted by Arthur and Mathew's bantering.

Their first stop was for Francis, too which, the French teen said, "Oh mon God, I thought you would never get here, you sent me that text like five minutes ago!" Arthur proceeded to try to run him over, when he was walking around the front of the car. Francis had screamed, and they all had a good laugh, until Francis said something in French to Arthur that made the English teen's face burn a bright red in the dark car.

Alfred didn't know what he had said, but when he looked at his brother's face and saw the amusement on it, he decided to just smile and act like he knew what Francis had said. He laughed, "Man, Arthur, you're screwed!"

Mathew nodded, wondering when Alfred had learned French, as he agreed, "Literally." His comment brought an end to Alfred's laughter, as another song came on. Within seconds, he and Francis were dancing to it, Mathew was laughing, and Arthur was avoiding eye contact with other drivers when they looked to see what the Hell was going on.

A few turns, laughs and borderline speeding later, Arthur was parking the car on Ivan's family's property. "Alright, get out, wankers," he said, even though the car was already emptying out. Alfred was one of the first out, beaming, as he ran across the lawn. Mathew was behind him. Arthur and Francis took a back way entrance to avoid the front door crowd…and also to sneak a few kisses behind the house.

The loud music should have assaulted Alfred's ears, but he barely heard it. He was so excited, as some people looked his way and others waved, and some just nodded and kept right on dancing. He had already made it to the kitchen on blind instincts, where Arthur was sipping from a red plastic cup and Francis was trying to coax the smaller into not drinking so early.

Alfred caught Mathew downing a cup, and going for a second, and asked, "Hey, what's that?" Mathew looked to where Alfred pointed, and the taller stole the unmonitored cup and drank form it. Mathew turned around, and snapped, "Hey, get your own!"

Alfred's nose wrinkled and he shoved the cup back, "God! That tasted fucking _awful_. I hate beer." Mathew rolled his eyes, as Alfred continued, "Where's the soda?"

"I don't think they have any, Al," he said, as Alfred looked in several cups and became steadily discouraged. Mathew came up to his brother with a cup of a different brand of beer. "Here," he said, "Just drink it, and stop being a baby."

Alfred frowned, as he took the cup, weighing his options. His mind went back to that teen drama show where he had waited two weeks to find out if that one chick was going to drink at that one party full of popular kids. He thought he had seen her drink from the cup, and be fine.

So he trusted his brother, and drank from the cup. It was mistake number one. His second was going for more, once he finished that first one, and trying to keep a "decent buzz" going. Mistake number three was going to find the room where everyone was dancing.

Mistake Four, why that was his biggest one: that was going from dancing with his friends and brother, to pretty much backing up his ass on his greatest enemy. He was too "buzzed" from his earlier toss-backs to even notice that someone had taken a photo of his little drunken stunt.

He was so screwed in the morning.

At least, he didn't have a drink in his hand. Nope. He chose to have out his phone and text FaceBook: "I is soooooo havin' fuuuun! XD"

**Status Feed: **_Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones_ was tagged in a picture with _Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski_ at Ivan's party.

**^Liked By: **_Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt, Elizabeta Yaoi-Madam Hedevaez, Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy, Kiku Ninja-sensei Honda, Feliciano Pasta Vargas, Mathew Notice-Me Williams, and 34 others liked this._

**Mathew Notice-Me Williams says:** OMG. I can't believe I'm saying this, but: GET IT, ALFRED! XD

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 11:51 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says:** Non. I knew this would be GOLD XD

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 11:52 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy says:** Ohonhonhon~ I told you, see? I knew l'amour would prevail! :D

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 11:53 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Kiku Ninja-sensei Honda says:** I shall see to buying copies of this picture, hai?

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 11:54 PM. (via Mobile.)_

Wow…it has been a LONG time since I last updated this. Ah well. At least I'm back, right? I'm sorry this took so long, I had to get all my chapters back from Doc. Manager after some bastard stole my flash drive. Ugh. People these days, SMH, may all their bacon BURN.

That was a British curse. (Hopefully, it will work, even though I'm German.) Hm.

Anyways—

**READ AND REVIEW!**


	4. You Know You're Drunk When

**Don't Add Me!**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Gauken Slash!AU: Welcome to the wonderful world of Alfred F. Jones. He recently moved with his family to this new town that he totally can't remember, but that's not important. What's important is showing that trash-talking Russian commie who's the real King of Popularity. First things first…find him on FaceBook. RusAme.

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

AHAHHAHA. ROMANO'S NAME AT THE BOTTOM, HAHAHAHA. OH MEIN LORD, HIS NAME! AHAHA, I CRACK MYSELF UP.

Ahem, excuse my lateness, Hurricane Sandy threw me for a loop, and I'm only just settling down where I am. God, I hate hurricanes like her. Mother Nature was a bitch, this year.

**WARNING**: Underage drinking and some pretty funny shit that I've seen some drunk/wasted people do. Don't believe me, go to a bar on a Saturday/Friday night. Better yet, go to YouTube and type in "drunk" or "drunk stunts".

Watch that search engine go~

**P.S.** Apparently, Finland is highly wanted as a lover. If you get my reference later, I applaud you. XD

* * *

**.:New Feeds:.**

**Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones** was tagged in a series of Mobile Uploads by **Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt**

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 12:06 AM. (via Mobile.) _**[^Liked by: 22 people**]

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says**: All finished uploading! Gott, I love FaceBook sometimes. XD

_Nov. 10th, 20XX. 2:38 AM. (via Mobile.)_

**Arthur English-Gentleman Kirkland says**: You are not very bright…You have Alfred as a friend, and yet you do this…You really should take these down.

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 9:23 AM. (via Mobile.)_

**Arthur English-Gentleman Kirkland says**: On second thought, I take that last comment back. I can't wait to see you get your arse kicked for this. X)

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 9:24 AM. (via Mobile.)_

* * *

So like, Alfred had a few beers, most of which he found handed to him….and that he just tossed back like they were orange juice. Well actually, one of them had tasted a bit like lime or lemon or one of those citrus fruits.

But in all seriousness, maybe he should have paid more attention to that one episode of that one girl drinking at that one party. He was starting to think that he had started the episode, some shit happened – like his mom asking if he did his homework, _before_ watching TV, like come on – and then he missed it.

Because, he was starting to think that maybe that one girl wasn't any better at drinking than he was. Because, he was wasted, like in all seriousness and reality–whatever else word there was for it – He at least knew when he was drunk.

And right now, he was _drunk off his ass._

But don't get him wrong, he was still drinking and having a good time. Backing on up on this guy, and letting some blurry-eyed girl try to sashay up to him to do the same. He was having a good time. He saw Ludwig, that one junior or whatever, do the drinking game where he was trying to chug some portion of beer.

He won, which was no surprise at all. He looked good though. He had been cheering and then he actually chest-bumped and did some **WERID AND TOTALLY COMPLICATED HEADSHAKE** with his older brother, Gilbert. Said Gilbert, was actually holding his beer better than his younger brother, even though Alfred was sure that he had gone through more than three six packs…by himself.

But somewhere along the lines of drunk and wasted, there was a fine line in which Alfred should have known not to cross. But as the unofficial Hero of the world, he just _had_ to cross it.

…He doesn't remember anything really after that. Only that he knew he was going to regret this in the morning later.

* * *

**You know you're drunk when…**

Your name is Arthur Kirkland, and you're barely speaking like the posh and proper boy that you usually are, and are now acting like someone out of an Asking Alexandria music video. Or maybe he is in a music video…They were people taking pictures of him. Or was that just Francis being a wanker again?

Damn it, how many drinks had he had? Was it one…or eleven? He knew for a fact he hadn't had NEARLY as many as Alfred, the American was even more drunk off his arse than Arthur. Ah well, Arthur was hearing a good song and he was making the most of it.

He even let Francis do what he wanted…for the most part. Damn, he was drunk.

XXX

**You know you're drunk when…**

Your name is Natalya Bragniski, and instead of dismantling the drunken body beside you that was all up on your brother, you're actually trying to teach him to 'twerk' without spilling his drink.

But unfortunately, she's too drunk to remember that her worst enemy is right beside her, and actually learning pretty quickly, before she realizes that her cup is empty and she leaves. She's so drunk, that she end up laughing at some lame joke told by a half-naked Toris in the kitchen.

XXX

**You know you're drunk when…**

Your name is Toris Laurinaitis, and you don't even realize that you have stripped yourself of your shirt and are now so drunk that you're speaking in something so slurred, it is not even recognizable as a language. You're so drunk; you fail to realize your jokes don't even make sense.

"Butter and-ah, toast, and then," Toris began, and suddenly a drunken clap and a giggle, "Boom! The sun goes luna-nova!"

"Oh shit, that is…_fucking hilarious_! Fuck, tell me that one about the uh, beavers and the Stone Hedge!" Natalya laughed beside him, wiping an eye, and barely able to keep herself standing straight in her high heels against the kitchen counter. She is laughing too hard and weirdly to be sober. But Toris is too drunk to notice.

Feliks, grabs him by his wrist, surprisingly completely fine despite the bottle of vodka half empty at his elbow. "Like dude," the Pole said, as Toris blinks from the floor. _When had he fallen on his ass?_

"I think you've had enough…" Feliks continued to say, but his words are cut off, by Toris screaming, "No! Never! Death to the Calculus…gingers shall be the defunct man! Slay him with the texts of Babylon and thrust into his heart the souls of those who had befallen under his wrath of Chinese and Canadian interbred moosen."

"…What the fuck?" Feliks started to ask, when Natalya and Toris started to chant, "Death to the moosen of the Swedes! May SpongeBob reclaim Scandia and make love to Finland!" Feliks stared for a moment, and then pinched his brow and sighed. Toris was beyond drunk.

XXX

**You know you're drunk when…**

Your name is Nathan Ball, the usually stoic Dutch, and you're publicly smoking pot in the back of the house, while watching a non-existent movie in some language that you don't even know and just laughing. You turn to the high Turk next to you, after passing on the smoke, and say, "You wanna know my favorite…part, dude?"

The Turk takes a long drag, and then grins like the drunken and blown idiot that he is, as he exhales through his nose. "The part…where uh, the guy with the turban goes 'I ank a nai a durrim…' Yeah, I think that's it…He's got nice boobs." The Nathan makes a grabbing motion at his chest, imagining a pair of overly large and bouncing balls of flesh in his hands, "Like dude, like, he had an uh, like quadruple D or Q or some shit like that."

The Turk next to him, "Like Ivan's older sister? The ones with the triple Zs? Going around and all you hear is '_da-dunk-da-dunk-da-da-donk'_ all the time?"

"Yeah, her," Nathan goes, and watched the Turk take an extra drag. He licked his lips, he had the munchies. "I wanted to grab hers, so bad, man, like those boobs. You don't know, those boobs!"

The Turk passes him back the smoke, and then goes, "Evet, yeah, and but my favorite, uh, part was when like then, ah, the other guy goes, uh, 'Guru dah nai loon'." The two high older teenagers laugh loudly, tears in their eyes, before looking back at the screen…

…Not even realizing there's no TV there…Just a brick wall, with a speck of bird dung on it.

"I like this movie," Nathan goes, and the Turk beside him agrees only to later add, "You're right…he does have great boobies. I wish you had boobies."

"If you had boobies," Nathan says, leaning back as he drags on an inhale, "I would fuck you."

"No, no, no, no," the Turk exclaims, waving his arms. Then, he stops. "Is it on a commercial?" Nathan's dilated hazel eyes widen, as he goes, "Oh my fuck, it is…"

It is still a brick wall. The bird dung has not moved. It was just a raccoon going through the neighbor's trash in the other backyard.

XXX

**You know you're drunk when…**

Your name is Mei, the usually quiet Taiwanese girl, and you're dancing on the bar counter with your Korean boyfriend and singing off-tune to some song. Your pink skirt is short, and everyone can see the flower tattoo that you let Im talk you into getting on your thigh.

There's saki spilling onto in between her chest. Not that Mei notices, she is too drunk to even notice that her shirt is missing off her chest, and spinning around her head, as she goes, "My humps-ah-my lovely little Asian lumps~"

XXX

**You know you're drunk when…**

Your name is Samara, and you're flirting with a fish and asking for its number. But when it doesn't answer, you get frustrated, and flirt harder, only to slap it across the face and cry.

Samara wipes her eyes, "No, no, baby," she pleads, "it's not you- it's me." The Seychelles girl smiles, teary-eyed at the fish, and whispers to it, "We can make this work, baby. I promise. We don't have to go all the way, if you don't want to. I'll do whatever you want me to do."

"Although," the young and drunken girl goes, as she trails a pretty painted nail over the fish's plump lips. "I wouldn't mind a few kisses." The girl leans forward, and kisses the fish. Due to her weight and gravity, the fish tips backward, and drunkenly, Samara calls out, "Oh yes! Yes, Mr. Blue-fin, yes! Take me!"

XXX

**You know you're drunk when…**

Your name is Ivan Bragniski, and you're enjoying the little dances that your crush is putting on for you. You had never thought your feeling would be reciprocated, but it would seem that they are. If Alfred's ass in your lap and hands are any indicator.

Ivan is grinning, sharing the vodka bottle, and trying to keep Alfred from taking down the bottle as he had tried to do several times in the night. Pale hands only make the neck of the bottle, before someone hooks their foot behind yours, and your back hits the couch behind. Luckily, no one was already sitting there.

Ivan blinked, feeling some air leave him, as he feels another body's weight on his chest. He opens his eyes, still mostly sober, and sees a drunken and glassy-eyed Alfred grinning back at him. The moment the Russian boy opens his mouth, Alfred is trying to devour it with sloppy kisses. Ivan mentally says to Hell with morals, and indulges in the personal make-out session.

Even if he can tell that Alfred is several levels of **DRUNK** off his ass...Ah well, he was not going to be picky with how Alfred would finally come to him. He would have a million parties after this, if it meant that this could happen every time.

…Maybe convince Alfred to do this sober?

XXX

**You know you're a slick bastard when…**

Your name is Mathew Williams, and you're not the only one taking advantage of the fact that your supposed brother is being a drunken whore. But who cares? You're helping his best friend take pictures of every little thing he does.

"Oh, Al," Mathew began, as Gilbert snorted back a laugh, biting on his lip to hold back the guffaws. "You are so wasted. You can't even hold a beer."

"When are you going to tell him," Gilbert said, looking over, "That you gave him light beer and soda?"

Mathew grinned, "Later."

"So never?" Gilbert scoffed, throwing an arm on the shorter boy's shoulders. Mathew grinned, as he saw how much his brother was enjoying himself. How much Ivan seemed to be enjoying his brother at the moment.

"Later…" Mathew said, as he took another photo. "I'll tell him later….if I '_remember_'."

"You're a bastard," Gilbert laughed, but he leaned over to peck the shorter on the cheek, "Who would've thought to see the devil in you, besides the awesome me?"

Mathew smirked, "That's a good question…"

But in the end, as Mathew catches how Alfred is giggling and trying to encourage all sorts of lustful sounds from the Russian underneath him on a couch in the open and basically trying to suck the other's face off, as he drunkenly laughed and then rolled himself off the couch to stagger somewhere else. Most likely to the kitchen, the teen couldn't hold his alcohol if his life depended on it.

"You know you're really drunk," he began, as he chose to take a video, as he continued to say, "When the word DRUNK doesn't even begin to describe how much you are going to hate yourself in the morning."

Gilbert nodded, "And that is why I love idiots."

"Don't we all?" Mathew smirked, "Don't we all…"

* * *

**Status Feed: **_Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones _commented on one of _Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt's _photos.

**^Liked By: **_Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt, Elizabeta Yaoi-Madam Héderváry, Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy, Kiku Ninja-sensei Honda, Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski, Mathew Notice-Me Williams, and 65 others liked this._

* * *

**Elizabeta Yaoi-Madam Héderváry says:** WHERE THE FUCKING HELL WAS I DURING THIS PART OF THE PARTY?! I DON'T REMEMBER SEEING THIS! OMG, GIL, I PROMISE NOT TO PUNCH YOU ON MONDAY IF YOU CAN GIVE ME SOME OF THESE PICTURES! ASKCBVSIKOL;!

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:11 PM. _

**Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski says:** …what in the NAME OF MOTHER RUSSIA AND VODKA IS THIS?! /GILBERT KING_OF_AWESOME_PRUSSIA BEILSCHMIDT/. YOUR ASS IS MINE; I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:12 PM. _

**Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones says:** (Wait your turn, commie.) OMFG. GET THIS THE FUCKING HELL OFF OF FB RIGHT NOW, GILBERT OR I WILL FUCKING COME TO YOUR HOUSE, DOWN INTO THE DAMN BASEMENT WHERE YOU HIDE YOUR UGLY ASS, AND FUCKING KILL YOU.

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:13 PM. _

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says:** Ouch. Swear much? And nein, no, I will not take these down. I got like 5 calls on copies. :D

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:14 PM. _

**Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones says:** Im on my way to ur house.

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:15 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Ivan Mother-Russia Bragniski says:** Me n the street is one

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:15 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says:** Oh shit. WEST!

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:16 PM. _

**Ludwig Second_Reich Beilschmidt says:** Leave me out of your foolishness. And do not tag me in another one of your posts ever again. Guten tag, mein ex-bruder. :P

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:18 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says:** If you loved me, you wouldn't let him in. :(

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:19 PM. _

**Ludwig Second_Reich Beilschmidt says:** …I guess I don't love you, then. I'm letting him in. I'm already waiting at the door. If you try to sneak out, I'll tell Vater. – w—

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:21 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says:** ….You is a basic bitch.

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:22 PM. _

**Ludwig Second_Reich Beilschmidt says:** Please use correct grammar if you're going to insult me. -_-'

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:24 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Feliciano Pasta Vargas says:** i just saw Alfred, ve, he looks mad…

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:24 PM. _

**Romano Total_Tomato_Takeover Vargas says:** No shit, Sherlock. The potato bastard's going to get his ass kicked! Hahahaha! XD

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:25 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Feliciano Pasta Vargas says:** why are you laughing

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:26 PM. _

**Feliciano Pasta Vargas says:** Luddy how do you make the question mark

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:26 PM. _

**Romano Total_Tomato_Takeover Vargas says:** ….Dumbass.

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:29 PM. (via Mobile.)_

**Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy says:** Now that the drama has left this lovely post…may I ask who did their Spanish homework?

_Nov. 11th, 20XX. 4:35 PM. _

* * *

OMG. I HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS CHAPTER. HAHAHAHA. OMG. WRITING THEM DRUNK WAS TOO MUCH FUN. OMG. LET THIS BE A LESSON TO ALL OF YOU:

NEVER EVER EVER EVER GET CAUGHT ON TAPE, WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK.

LMAO. XDD

**READ AND REVIEW!**


	5. Life Sucks So Much

**Don't Add Me!**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Gauken Slash!AU: Welcome to the wonderful world of Alfred F. Jones. He recently moved with his family to this new town that he totally can't remember, but that's not important. What's important is showing that trash-talking Russian commie who's the real King of Popularity. First things first…find him on FaceBook. RusAme.

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Ugh. I hate hospitals. Damn things.

**Celty = Celtic country, the Celts, or you could think of her as a France/Germany border inhabitant if that floats your boat.** Germania did have relations with them, and I thought it might be cute to add her in. She doesn't have a major role in the overall story, but she was a major factor in this chapter.

* * *

**.:New Feeds:.**

**Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones** updated his status to "Oh sorry Ma for taking responsibility. I will gladly accept the fact that i am now grounded for punching him in the face. NOT!"

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 5:06 PM. (via Mobile.) _

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says**: You got grounded? :O

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 5:07 PM. _

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says**: Serves you right for hitting the awesome ME! Your hits didn't even hurt at all! KESESESESE~

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 5:07 PM. _

**Mathew Notice-Me Williams says**: Gil, seriously, stop. Al got in real big problem, because of your pictures and how he turned on you. Just…leave me alone for a while. :(

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 5:10 PM. _

**Kiku Ninja-sensei Honda says**: Will he be arriving at school tomorrow, Mathew-kun?

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 5:12 PM. _

**Mathew Notice-Me Williams says**: I don't know, Kiku. He was really upset, and my parents are pretty mad at him. He hasn't even opened his door yet…

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 5:15 PM._

**Arthur English-Gentleman Kirkland says**: This is pretty bad. (Has anyone heard about Ivan yet?)

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 5:17 PM._

* * *

Alfred got caught. He had slipped being sniffed by his mother on the way in, because he had come in so late. He had slipped her sight, when he had forced himself to get in the shower to wash off the smell of booze and whatever else might have been at the party. But it was for naught, when she got a phone call from Gilbert's step-mom about her son being beaten up by her son.

From there, it went all downhill. She had had to pick up Alfred, who had tried to hide away, until for Mrs. Beilschmidt to hold him from going anywhere. His mother had been pissed as only Hell could name. and it got worse. She wanted to know why she had been called from work; she wanted to know why Gilbert's step-mom wanted to press charges. From there, the German woman produced Gilbert's new phone – now cracked into a spider web and occasionally shorting out because someone had stepped on it.

Alfred's mother saw the pictures, saw the ones uploaded onto FaceBook. At first, she was very quiet. Then her she nodded, and said a few things in a clipped tone, her Southern accent sounding so clear that it was almost like she was a different woman. As soon as Mrs. Beilschmidt let go of Alfred's collar, the American's mother was grabbing the back of his neck to basically drag him to her Sudan.

Alfred tried to explain things, but when her nails pressed inwards into his skin, he shut his mouth. Her face was dark, not even her makeup could lighten the dark veil of rage on her visage. Ludwig came outside briefly, avoiding Alfred's eyes, and asked his step-mom something quietly. She nodded, and then said something back in German. Ludwig cleared his throat politely, waved to Alfred' mother who managed a nod back in her anger, and then the younger German was gone.

Alfred sat in the car, fear gripping his heart and putting him on the verge of tears. He was so afraid. His mother wasn't even herself; she spoke to Gilbert's step-mom a little bit longer, and Alfred caught that the other woman's name was Celty. She was a bit short, shorter than Alfred's mother, but she carried herself like she wasn't. Her dark blonde hair was a bit on the curly side and pulled into a short ponytail on the base of her neck. Her eyes were similar to a bluish hue of green, and she had freckles over her pale face. Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout, despite her obvious attempt to look angry and not childish.

Why Ludwig and Gilbert's dad married her was anyone's guess. The serious-faced man hardly ever smiled or spoke, and seemed to be forever working on something. He was a nice man though, gave to local charities, and he loved babies. He _really_ liked kids. Alfred had a feeling that might have been why, but seeing as he was close to losing his neck for fighting said man's eldest son, he was in no position to wonder about anything but surviving on the way home. Good thing he had chosen to ride in the backseat, despite his usual choice of riding shotgun.

When his mother finally came back to the car, Celty darted back up the steps of her home and shut the door. Alfred's mother nodded again to the empty air, took a deep breath, and then started the car. She turned her music off, something which Alfred had never seen her do before. The American woman backed out of the driveway carefully, still silent, and Alfred dared to speak. "Ma? Ma, I-"

"Alfred Foster Hamilton Jones," she said firmly, her blue eyes cold on the rearview mirror, "Say one more and _I_ am going to knock_ you_ flat out on your fucking ass." Alfred didn't say anything else, and he was really close to just pulling up his knees to cry. He didn't cry. But he did pull up his feet and rub the grass stains along the white toe front of his shoe. He stayed silent during the entire drive. When their car pulled up the driveway, he felt more than heard the child's lock click on in the car. His mother took another breath, nodding to herself as if trying to calm down.

She remained facing forward, but said lowly, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat your ass across the damned driveway. Hell, maybe from here up to your room, where you can stay for the next six months by your fucking stupid and lonesome self." Her manicured nails tapped along the steering wheel, as Alfred said nothing, but his shoulders shook. His mother rarely got this mad.

"Alfred, why would you do that?" His mother demanded, and it nearly sounded like she was about to start shrieking. "_Why_? What possessed to get drunk and act like a damned hussy for all through night? And where was your brother? Was he drunk like you? Do you even remember anything from last night?"

When Alfred said nothing, just continued to shake endlessly in fear and bite his lip to hold back the impending tears and pent-up frustration; his mother shouted, pounding her hand upon the horn and making it blare across the street. "ALFRED F. JONES. OPEN YOUR DAMN MOUTH AND ANSWER ME. LOOK ME IN MY FUCKING FACE AND SAY SOMETHING."

Alfred couldn't bring himself to do it. And there was a good reason why. His mother began to cry, and she started yelling, and her son wasn't doing much better. Although, he wasn't as loud; Alfred made no move to touch her and she unlocked the doors and shut off the car. She ran up her steps, right in the middle of her scolding and slammed the front door.

It was a while before Alfred left the car; even then, he walked out and felt like an old man coming back to Earth on legs not his own. He didn't see his mother when he walked in, but that meant she was in her room. Sure enough, he could hear muffled sounds from his parents' shared bedroom. He sluggishly walked by. He barely gave himself enough time to take off his glasses, before he threw himself on his bed face-first.

Mathew came in briefly, knowing his brother's head was hurting, because he had a hangover too. But when he tried to approach his sibling, Alfred snapped at him to go away. The younger tried to overlook the snap and just left the medicine by the bedside lamp, with a glass of juice from downstairs. He whispered, "Sorry Al" before he darted back out.

Later on that night, when their father came home, it got even worse. Muffled voices could be heard from Alfred's room, his mother's not one of them. Alfred was trying to defend himself, but the pictures still on FaceBook – that Gilbert had yet to talk down, since he could only see from one eye at the moment – were more than enough evidence to convict him. In between the various shouting and muffled loud voices, was the continued exiting of his parents removing things one-by-one. They unplugged his TV, took his game console and video games, and lastly his phone and computer. Alfred was told to then sit in his room and simply think of an apology to not only Gilbert, but his parents as well.

Because they were disappointed, and for once, Alfred could only agree with them. He was disappointed in himself in him too. But later, after the awkward and silent dinner, and the shower that he kind of prolonged into nearly using up all the hot water, Alfred could only think of one thing:

If he was in waist-deep shit, just how much trouble was Ivan in? His father had been easier to contact than his mother. Ivan's father hadn't even come over, he had been on a business trip, but Celty had only heard him on the phone and she was afraid. Ivan hadn't even tried saying anything to his father, when she had passed him the phone. No wait, Alfred thought about it again, Ivan had said something in Russian really fast, but a deep growled response over the phone had made him shut up real quick.

Ivan had then nodded, and kept nodding until he handed the phone back to Celty, saying that his older sister was on the way. Sure enough, right before Alfred's mother had hung up on him, Katyusha had pulled into the drive way. She was crying, though she was angry, had a teary-eyed Natalya in the back seat of her little car. Alfred had never seen Natalya do more than frown or glare, when sober, but she looked so close to tears, he was afraid. Ivan looked as if he was walking to an execution block.

When Katyusha yelled something at Ivan and he stammered in Russian but ultimately responded back in English that he was coming. He didn't even look at Alfred, before he left. Ivan started to go for the backseat, but his sister refused to open the door until he looked up and saw her pointing at the passenger side in the front side. Ivan had no choice but to get in the front. When he did, Katyusha peeled out of the driveway and drove like a bat out of Hell.

That scared Alfred more than anything, at least before his mother had come, anyways.

Sitting up late into the night, Alfred bit his lip and rubbed his toes through his Marvel blanket. He did kind of feel guilty, while not really remorseful for his actions. He wanted to know Ivan was doing, but at the same time, he was almost afraid to know. Was the other kid worse off or better off? If only Alfred had his phone, he could have just asked with a private message – oh, but wait. If Ivan didn't have his phone, then he couldn't answer. But still, if Alfred had his phone, then he could ask someone else who knew…

Alfred groaned, as he turned onto his stomach, his mind was going faster than he would have liked. He wanted to sleep. He had already taken a few of the pain pills, but it didn't help the nausea still lingering in his belly, and how his body throbbed with aches and pains. His mother hadn't been so gentle with bandaging him up; she had called it retribution or something.

Alfred scratched at a lone bump on his arm; it was probably from an ant that had been crushed on accident, but no less dead than Alfred's freedom right now. He sighed as he recalled his punishment. Two months of Total Lockdown, and then he wasn't allowed to go anywhere during the summer as further penance.

He had to come up with an apology for his parents and Gilbert. Gilbert would be easier to do, since Alfred could just buy him food – oh but wait, no allowance, major suckage – or get Mathew out of the house more often. But Alfred thought that he had heard his brother getting chewed out too, not as badly as starting a fight, but nonetheless, Mathew was grounded too.

Alfred stared off into the dark recesses of his closet, where he normally would have looked at the TV which sadly was not there, only a glimpse of clear wall and a dresser top where it had once sat. Alfred groaned again.

Life sucked so much right now.

* * *

**Status Feed: **_Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt updated his status: "Like damn, did I get EVERYONE in trouble, today?"_

**Arthur English-Gentleman Kirkland says:** Pretty much. I heard from the Frog that Ivan is in a lot of trouble, and so is Natalya, for having the party in the first. But Ivan is in more trouble, for fighting you. (I'm on probation, and so is Francis and a couple of others, because you posted pictures of us drinking on FaceBook, you twat.)

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 8:32 PM._

**Mathew Notice-Me Williams says: **I got grounded too, but my parents are madder at Alfred for fighting you than me drinking, apparently.I don't have my computer or my games, and I have to give up my phone for a couple of weeks. (Not sure about Alfred's sentence, though, he still hasn't opened his door.)

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 8:36 PM. (via Mobile)_

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says:** Well damn. I almost feel bad for you guys. I could kind of understand what with Alfred being mad at me, but my face hurts. And Celty was going OFF about my bruises and scraps. Like not even joking. She wanted to call dad and make it worse, but I told her not to. She probably will though. Sorry dudes. (…I wonder why I'm not grounded, but Ludwig was.)

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 8:37 PM._

**Gilbert King_of_Awesome_Prussia Beilschmidt says:** Monday is going to be soooo awkward. ):

_Nov. 12th, 20XX. 8:37 PM._

* * *

Sad chapter with (slight) angst is sad. :( Because I mean seriously. Did you guys honestly think that Alfred was going to get away with that?

I apologize for only my lateness. (In other news, "_Study Abroad_" should be updated soon, hopefully...)

**READ AND REVIEW!**


	6. See, What Had Happened Was -?

******Don't Add Me!**

******Rating:**T

******Summary:** Gauken Slash!AU: Welcome to the wonderful world of Alfred F. Jones. He recently moved with his family to this new town that he totally can't remember, but that's not important. What's important is showing that trash-talking Russian commie who's the real King of Popularity. First things first…find him on FaceBook. RusAme.

**__****BrooklynBabbii**

* * *

…

Err. Uh. Well, it's been a while, hasn't it, guys? *coughs in the silence* Blame Tumblr, it kept me distracted. You all should follow me, so we can chat. The link is on my profile, amidst my nonsense reblogs, I do talk about updates and new ideas I have.

* * *

**.********:New Feeds:.**

******Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones** updated his status to: "Well...that was awkward to say the least... :/"

___Nov. 17th, 20XX. 1:36 PM. (via Mobile)_

******Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy********says****:** Could be worse. Have you seen some of the others, yet? Gilbert screwed us all.

___Nov. 17th, 20XX. 2:13 PM._

******Francis Too-Sexy-For-A-Shirt Bonnefoy********says****:** Oh yeah, and accept my Candy Crush invitation! I need more friends to join me!

___Nov. 17th, 20XX. 2:14 PM._

* * *

Alfred was rudely awakened by his alarm clock, begrudgingly reaching his arm out into the cold air and smashing his hand along the dresser until he found the snooze button – when he found it, though was already up by the time it had gone out. He groaned, sleep done with, as he dragged himself up and he got up. He yawned, loudly, scratching his stomach, eyes still crusty with sleep.

Last night had been...informative, in a way.

Kinda.

* * *

His mother had barged into his room, while he had been doing some math homework – he could get math, but he didn't get shit out of Spanish, woot – and she said they had needed to have a talk. Alfred had assumed that she had gone through his phone and ran through his text messages...but she had given him back his phone, actually looking kind of guilty.

"Al," she had said, "I'm..sorry, alright? I kind of blew up at you, and I'm sorry." Her blue eyes flashed then, as she hurried crossed her arms over her ample chest, "I'm still mad at you." Her socked foot tapped on the ground, as she narrowed her eyes. "Tell me, Alfred. When was the last time you got in this much trouble"

"Uh..." Alfred began, his face burning a bit, as he knew he had to answer, "When, I got caught with an older guy...?" His face, alone, asked if the answer was acceptable.

His mother's expression said it was not, and she furthered how he was wrong. "Correct, but you left out a couple of details – said 'older guy' was almost 20, Alfred, you had been 14. And might I remind you – you got caught with _his_ tongue down _your_ throat, in _your fucking bed_, and _with the bedroom door wide open._"

Alfred looked down at his feet, chuckling dryly, that story never got old. Man, he had been such a dumb ass, he had seriously thought he had heard his parents say that they were going to work late that night.

But his mom was right. Alex, excuse him, Alexandru had truly been kind of obsessed with him at the time. Practically in love with Alfred, he had driven him around and taken to places, bought him a bunch of shit that he had wanted and hadn't really needed, and didn't even push for much. They had only kissed a couple of times, that he remembered.

It probably hadn't helped the situation when he found out that Alfred had lied about his age – the American had been tall for his age – and had nearly labeled Alex as a sexual predator and child molester. The guy had been only an inch from straggling Alfred that day. And had it not been for the ugly break up that followed, he might have been labeled as one.

Alexandru had basically dropped Alfred then and there, well...until recently, Alfred had recently added him back on FaceBook, after his 16th sixteenth birthday...and Alex had added him back. They texted a couple of times, but the older male was still a bit cold towards for the whole thing. But it was kind of to be expected, not to say that Alfred was a little sad about it. He liked having nice things for no reason.

"Al?"

"Huh?" Alfred said, zoning back into reality. He really did need to pay attention. His mother sighed, and went to sit on the bed, hugging him. "I love you, my little moron." She socked him gently in the arm, and he made to sock her back, but she growled and said, "Hit me, and I'll shove your fist so far down your throat, your fingers will touch your damned balls."

Needless to say that Alfred had put his hand down real quick. And people wondered where Alfred got his language and temper from. Hm. Obviously not his polar bear of a dad, honestly, Alfred wondered how his parents even met – his mom was basically a walking time-bomb and his dad was like the human reincarnation of Pooh Bear.

"But yeah," his mother continued, "Like I had been saying before you zoned out like a weirdo -" She flicked his nose playfully, allowing a small smile, as he wrinkled his nose just like she would do. "I said that I don't mind shortening your sentence and giving you back this -" Alfred's eyes were lightening up, and then he heard the catch, " - If you tell me what your attachment to that little boy you were all up on, at that party."

"Uh..." Alfred began, face reddening, as he stammered, thinking back to that night. While most of it was fuzzy, the things that kept him awake at night and not for any of the good reasons – those memories were not; they were crystal clear. "Well, uh, see what had happened was..."

His mother was grinning, leaning back on his bed, waiting, as she decided to scroll through his messages. Now Alfred didn't have Ivan's phone number saved, but...since, he still occasionally talked to Alex, he had changed his name for the case of 'mistaken identity." He had named the contact: "Red", after Alex's natural reddish eye color, that and the guy really had a thing for red, any red at all looked good him.

Which, coincidentally, his mother had pulled up – the contact had been with a red palette for a icon picture, thank God, but as she said, "Isn't 'Red' what you used to call that Ivan kid back in elementary school?"

Alfred gulped, and his face darkened to the deepest red, "UH...!"

Her face was confused for a moment, and then she connected pieces with no seeming relation, as her mouth made a 'o'. "Oh...oh. Oh! Oh crap – shit – fuck!" She tossed the phone from hand to hand, like in hot potato, and then to Alfred. Her face was red, "I didn't mean to read your love notes." Alfred blushed harder. She had read those? Had she read the responses too?

_FUCK._

"Although, I gotta say – he's quite the poet, isn't he?"

_**FUCK**_.

"MOM," Alfred began, face redder than a ripe apple, "Please get out."

"Don't get knocked up, okay?" She teased, pinching his cheek. "He sounds like a good guy, keep him – just don't get caught on FaceBook again, dear – or making out again with the door open."

With that, the little woman was gone. And Alfred shut the door, thought for a moment and locked it. He knocked his head with his hands a couple of times, and then laughed bitterly, as he looked down at his phone. It bleeped – 1 new text message:

"_Im srs bout the kissin thing, keep ur door closed"_

"Good night, Mom!" Alfred shouted through the wall, still able to hear her laughter from downstairs. He groaned. Why couldn't he have a normal life – oh, that's right, his family was fucking weird as shit.

* * *

The next day was even weirder. Well, for Alfred anyways.

He got up, and went to take a shower. Then, his phone rang - he answered, like any good phone owner would do, and...no one answered him. Silence. And then, they hung up. Alfred ignored it. Shrugging it off, and going back to take his shower. He came out, like nearly a half hour later, and saw he had missed a call. Frowning, he tried to call back. The line opened, after two rings -

And, again, they hung up again, without saying a word.

After that, Alfred put his phone on silent, thinking something must have been wrong with it. He shoved it into the pocket of his jeans, purposely avoiding one of the looser pairs and going for a nice dark pair. He ripped a checkered black and white button up over an even darker t-shirt. He was just tying his shoes, when his pocket gave off the slightest light. He eyed it, not pulling the phone free, and then the light was gone. Alfred went back to tying his shoes, and then going down to breakfast, with his schoolbag in tow. Whistling a tune, he gave a specific series of knocks to his brother's door, getting the reply of "I'll be done in a minute, Al!"

Breakfast was much better, despite his mother's side jokes. His dad was clueless, actually finding them funny as he drowned himself in coffee and pancakes, before kissing his wife good bye and telling both his boys to behave for the day. Alfred's mother continued to tease him, until it was time for him and his brother to catch their ride with Arthur. Alfred found his cheeks pinched and "molested", as his mother made kissing faces and Mathew watched on in horror.

"Oh my God, Ma! Please stoooop!" Alfred complained, and the minute that she let go - the boy was out the door, yelling out good bye and snatching his book bag. Mathew paused, to sigh and take up their dirty dishes to put them in the dishwasher. "Mom, do you think this is helping him?" He asked, as he gathered his things.

She smiled, "Maybe not, but it's fucking fun." As she laughed, Mathew rolled his eyes, and kissed her cheek before he said good bye and went around the corner to see Alfred already babbling to Arthur and whining.

"She's onto us, Artiiiiie," Alfred whined, "She wants to separate us! For good, this time!"

"If you don't get the fuck off of me," Arthur began. "I will kick you so hard in your balls." Alfred immediately let go, dropping his dramatic face and pouting, "Bitchy, much?" Arthur huffed.

"Gilbert and his stupid pictures got me on probation, Alfred," Arthur explained, still in a bad mood. "My car restrictions are for school only, and then the key goes back to Angus. Not only that, but the fat twat is telling Father. As if that old bastard will do anything but bring up the fact that it's mother's fault for leaving us, if not this is what I get for hanging around you."

"He still doesn't like me, because of the tea incident?"

"No, Alfred," Arthur said, a bit of a grin escaping him, as he got in the front seat to start the car. "And I doubt he ever will like you again - that was still a brave stunt you pulled, though. I'll give you that, it made me laugh to see him get so flustered." Alfred laughed with him, as Mathew walked up and got into the car. Arthur pulled out the driveway, accelerating down the road to pick up Francis, and seeing the other blonde leaving his house with a last word to somebody in the house. The French boy frowned, and said something back and then slammed the door, glaring. He got in the car, and almost immediately, his bad mood was sensed.

"Mona blamed you?" Arthur started, pulling back into the road and driving off. Francis huffed and nodded, "For the huge mess she made of the house, while I was helping Nana the other day. Little liar." Arthur sighed, shaking his head, and making a move to change the radio station. Francis said he would do it, and let the Brit concentrate on driving as he handled the radio himself.

But what none of them escaped to find, when they approached the school parking lot was Ivan by his own car. The taller teen was waiting by the door, as if he was waiting on something...or someone. As Arthur parked the car, and the group made to get out, Ivan pushed himself off the wall. His face was placid, as he stood at the stairs, looking down on them, then finally he shouted down to them, "Hey. Alfred. Could you come up here and talk to me, for a moment?"

Alfred paused, debated on whether or not to answer, considering how he didn't like the Russian, when said taller teen shouted down, "If you don't come to me, I'll come to you, I'm tired of you avoiding me. I need to talk to you. It's about the party."

_Fuck my life_, Alfred thought. Why couldn't anyone see he didn't want to talk about the party?

* * *

******Status Feed****: Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones**_ updated his status: "Ba-da-bing! I'm baaaack! Who missed me? :*"_

******Arthur English-Gentleman Kirkland says****:** Good for you, now shut up, it's 3 AM.

___Nov. 18th, 20XX. 3:42 AM. (via Mobile)_

******Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones says****:** artie wait -

___Nov. 18th, 20XX. 3:42 AM. (via Mobile)_

******Arthur English-Gentleman Kirkland says****:** WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU FUCKING WANT?!

___Nov. 18th, 20XX. 3:43 AM. (via Mobile)_

******Alfred F'reaking Awesome Jones says****:** ily,artie, thnkx 4 answerin meh status – LATER BITCH.

___Nov. 18th, 20XX. 3:44 AM. (via Mobile)_

******Arthur English-Gentleman Kirklandsays****:** YOU FUCKING TWAT.

___Nov. 18th, 20XX. 3:46 AM. (via Mobile)_

* * *

/facedesk and rolls into fiery pit of lava/

******READ AND REVIEW!**


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